


The Life as a Death Eater / The Life of Severus Tobias Snape

by AcerbicAnimagus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bellatrix is a sick bitch, Dumbledore is a cold bastard, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, One Shot, Twenty-Year-Old Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:02:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25946287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcerbicAnimagus/pseuds/AcerbicAnimagus
Summary: What exactly did happen after Severus overheard the Profecy and went to tell Voldemort?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	The Life as a Death Eater / The Life of Severus Tobias Snape

**Author's Note:**

> Had this thing lying around for months, I decided to just post it. I've written a second chapter already, and even a bit of a third, I think, but I don't know how to continue after that, so I think I'll just keep this as a one-shot. Unless you peeps want to read the rest nonetheless, that is...
> 
> I just wasn't pleased with the other two chapters because they go against some of my own headcanons and because though I intended to write an entire fic about Severus' life, I got stuck somewhere in the middle of chap 3, but oh well. We'll see.
> 
> As always,
> 
> Much love!! (You'll need it)
> 
> ps: my work isn't beta'd, so any errors are entirely my fault.

_**February, 1980** _

It was cold. Only a couple of candles brought light to the muggy room. The dungeon of Lestrange Manor was filled to its capacity with blackhooded figures. Amidst them, on an elevated part of the room, a man let his gaze glide around the room, meeting the eyes of each one of them, spreading his cloak covered arms, making him look like a ginormous bat. His eyes were bloodshot, intense, like a snake and they caused their prey to fight the urges to look away. None of them did though. No one moved even an inch. 

At last his eyes met a particular set of black ones, belonging to a man in the back of the crowd. He held the man’s gaze for what seemed like minutes, while the others in the room averted theirs to their feet, relieved the attention was not directed at them anymore.  
Then, the man in the middle of the room began to speak, addressing the owner of the pitch black eyes, “Come here, my boy. Come here and kneel for your Master. Tell your Lord and your Brothers and Sisters what you have come to learn.”

The man disengaged himself from the others and moved to his Master, still keeping his eyes on the red ones. When he was at the Dark Lord’s feet, he lowered himself onto his knees, bowing his head. He kissed the robes of his Master, making sure to do so without touching him in any other way. 

“Enough of that,” the Dark Lord barked, clasping his hand behind his back and kicking the man at his feet in his side. The man did not flinch, but retreated a couple of inches backwards, still on his knees, his eyes locked to his Master’s feet. 

“My apologies, my Lord,” he said without looking up. His deep voice had a trace of youthfulness, light, innocence even. It was a voice that would suit a adolescent in his late teens, mid twenties at max. 

The others in the room held their breath in anticipation of what would follow next, but their Master only huffed and continued his little scene.

“Tell us, boy. Enlighten your Lord with your newly gained knowledge.”

“My Lord,” the man said. “It has come to my attention that after this year’s July, the world will be inhabited by someone so powerful he will be able to defeat you, my Lord.”

Before Voldemort could respond, a witch from somewhere near his right lurched forward from her place in the inner circle. 

“How dare you?!” she screamed. “How dare you implying your Master could be defeated!”

The man on the floor didn’t move, didn’t react. His Master ignored him and turned his attention to the witch. 

“Did your Lord allow you to interrupt, Bella?” he asked icily.

Bellatrix Lestrange swallowed, her face displaying she realised her mistake. In an instant she was on her knees at her Master’s feet, placing herself beside her Brother, begging for forgiveness. 

In the shadows of his hood, the man on the floor rolled his eyes. The others in the room held their breath once again.

The Dark Lord ignored her pleas and with a non-verbal spell, he silenced her. Only her moving lips showed that she didn’t stop her pleading. 

“Please ignore the interruption. You may continue now. How did you, a twenty year old boy, acquire this piece of information?” 

“My Lord,” the man began. “I overheard a conversation between a Seer and Dumbledore. The Seer made a prophecy. Would you like me to repeat it, my Lord?”

He let out the part where the host of the cafe where this had taken place caught him eavesdropping. The man had thrown him out without a second thought.  
Certain his Master would not be very happy to find out he had failed to deliver all of the crucial information, he instinctively solidified his mental walls, occluded his mind even though he was hardly a mastered Oclumens.  
He kept his gaze on the dirty tiles of the dungeon as he waited for his Master to consider this.

“That will not be necessary,” the answer came after a while.

As soon as the words had left his Master’s lips, the man felt Voldemort intruding his mind. Quickly he offered himself up, opening his mind to his Master, letting the memory of the prophecy float to the surface of his thoughts. And even though occluding came by instinct, his walls couldn’t stop his Master to push his way further into his mind. His master simply had years and years of experience on him.  
Reaching the part where his servant had been caught red-handed, the Dark Lord pulled out.  
The man on the floor was still looking at the tiles of the dungeon, the other witch as well.  
Before he addressed the pair, he looked up to the others in the room, as if daring them to move.  
They didn’t. They all remained silent, their eyes fixed upon the floor, waiting till their Master ordered them to do something.  
Voldemort continued by lifting his silencing spell off Bellatrix and he banished her back to her place in the inner circle without granting her a single look.

“Severus Snape,” he purred. “Stand.”

The man did as he was told. First placing his right foot steady on the dusty tiles, then his left, slowly rising, until he was at the same level as his Master, able to look him directly in the eye. He didn’t, though. He kept his eyes on the ground, waiting for his Master to continue.

“The information you provided will be of great use to me, Severus, my loyal servant. But I can’t simply ignore the fact that you did not deliver me the whole prophecy, because of your foolish sloppiness.”

Severus lowered his head even further, fully aware what his Master had in store for him. He tried to relax his muscles, knowing from experience that it would help enduring the immeasurable pain to come. Not that it would make a difference during, but he found that after, his muscles tended to spasm a bit less often. Letting out a sigh which told the people in his surroundings, including his Master he had resigned to his fate, he heard the Dark Lord casting that one spell.

_“Crucio.”_

Severus felt himself crashing down to the floor. Unable to break his fall, he landed flat on his face, but he didn’t even notice the pain his fall had caused, because the Unforgivable Curse filled his whole existence with excruciating pain already.  
His body writhed on the filthy tiles of Lestrange Manor, his mouth opened, but no sound escaped, since Severus had given up screaming during these tortures a long time ago, rather focusing on saving his energy. His Brothers and Sisters just stood there, watching him.  
The pain went on and on and Severus felt his bladder emptying itself and in that moment, he wished he would die.  
Finally the curse was lifted, but the pain didn’t stop, it only diminished to an agonizing ache in his muscles, his bones, his head, his everything.  
He stayed put on his spot on the ground, lying in a pool of his own waste, waiting. Not ever in his twenty years walking this world, he had felt so humiliated and he had gone through quite some nasty situations before. He did not move, though, knowing his Master would not hesitate to curse him again if he dared to move before the Dark Lord gave his permission to do so.  
At last, he heard the hissing sound his Master’s voice produced from somewhere above him.

“You have never made such a mess before, Severus. Let this be a lesson. To all of you,” the Master said to his servants. “Sloppiness will not be tolerated. I only accept the best from each one of you. Show me you’re worthy of serving me.”

The others shuddered at the possible prospect of having to lay in their own urine, recovering from a curse which when compared to even Hell seemed like a nice place.  
Voldemort turned his attention back to Severus.

“Let me relieve you, Severus. Consider it a token of my appreciation of the information you did manage to bring me.”

Severus stayed still.

 _“Evanesco.”_

Severus felt his robes soaked with his own piss vanish from his body, the pool of liquid disappearing as well. His wand clattered on the floor, being freed from its sheath in Severus’ left sleeve, now that the robes were gone.  
Naked and bare Severus laid on the cold tiles, still not taking the risk of moving.

“Thank you, my Lord. Thank you for your mercy and for your kindness,” he said instead.

A few of his Brothers had the decency to avert their eyes from their naked Brother to the floor, while a couple of witches seemed to look even closer to Severus’ slender but well-build and surprisingly muscular frame.  
Severus felt the eyes upon him and tried to prevent a blush from embarrassment from spreading on his cheeks as he laid on the floor up for display. 

The Dark Lord ignored the thanks. He had no time for such things. The impact of the information Severus had provided, had hit him.  
In a few months a boy would be born and this boy would be the one to destroy him. He had to prevent that from happening. If Severus had only managed to overhear whose child the boy would be…  
Though, he very much doubted the prophecy would be that specific. Well, he certainly had to find out and kill the kid as soon as possible and anyone who would stand in his way would be taken down as well.  
Collecting his thought, Voldemort began to hand out his commands in order to find out who this enemy would be. One by one the Death Eaters Disapparated when they got their orders.  
After a while Bellatrix and Severus were the only ones left. 

“Bella,” the Dark Lord said, his back to her and Severus. “Tend to Severus and see to his full recovery. I will need his magic to fight for me when the time comes. I cannot have him lying on the ground any longer in these dark times.”

With that he Disapparated himself to Merlin-knows-where.

Severus was still on the floor on his side, too proud to ask for something to cover his bare form and to shield him from the cold dungeon air, too proud to even cover himself with his hands. Even if he wanted to protect himself, he couldn’t. His muscles wouldn’t obey him, still spasming from the Cruciatus Curse. He knew soon the spasms would subdue enough for him to apparate himself somewhere safe and warm, but that wouldn’t happen for another fifteen minutes. Till then he would have to endure whatever Bellatrix was planning on doing with or to him.  
Bellatrix was still standing in the same spot she was before, her lustful eyes fixed upon his angular frame shivering. Certain parts of him were visibly affected by the cold.  
Slowly she moved into action and strode to his side. She bent over, almost folding in half, so she could whisper in his ear.

“ _He_ may have ignored your mistrust in Him, Snapey, I, however, will not,” she purred. “Such a shame to have a pretty young thing lying naked on my dungeon floor.” 

Severus did not comment, steeling his mind from any emotions, expecting that the ones he would experience in a few minutes were not ones he would wish to even his worst enemy. He knew the witch’s reputation and didn’t doubt her intentions as she eyed him with want.  
Bellatrix picked up his wand and licked the length of it.  
Sucking on his wand, she reached over to grab at his groin with her rough hands. He did not swell under the attention. The temperature in the room was too low and his energy drained.  
She squeezed him mercilessly in her fist, not caring about the pain that flooded him, her eyes almost blurry with lust. She then continued to let his wand slip from between her lips, only to reach behind her and prodding her other set of lips with its tip. She pressed the wand inside her, her walls clenching in anticipation. Slowly she thrust his wand in and out of her, making sure he saw everything.  
Grabbing him more firmly, she pulled him to his feet. He complied, not needing to add to the still burning pain in his body by having his genitals stretched.  
He ignored his bucking knees and the contractions in his muscles and he straightened his back. With her hand still on him, he looked her in the eye.

“Let go of me,” he said, his voice dangerously low. He wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. He wanted his wand back and above all he wanted to get away from that vile witch, whose hand was still kneading his balls and his member. They remained unaffected though.

“As you wish,” she whispered in his ear, swiveling around him and putting her chin on his shoulder before moving to his front, rubbing her cheek against his hairless chest.  
She removed her hand from between his legs but pulled out her own wand and in an instant, Severus found himself bound on top of a table with thick ropes biting in his skin, his arms above his head, legs parted, awfully aware how exposed he was.

“I’m sure you want to run back to whatever hole or cave it is you’re hiding in, isn’t it, Snapey? But first, I’m going to have some fun with you.”

Her hot breath on his face made his pale skin flush with colours of red.  
He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of showing her his embarrassment, so he met the eyes that were drilling into his skull.

Not lowering his gaze once, he had to endure how she licked his chest, grazed his nipples with her teeth, while fondling his junk.

He stayed still while she forced a Potency Potion down his throat. He didn’t flinch when she took his now enlarged member in her mouth, swallowing him, her tongue circling him, lapping his balls. He just held her gaze while she went on to climb on the table and straddle him. She lifted her dress, pulled out his wand, throwing it carelessly on the floor and she lowered herself on him, welcoming him inside her with a satisfied moan. 

Watching her riding herself to completion, he became more and more detached, occluding his mind to protect himself, banishing his fears and tears to the back of his mind, never acknowledging his growing arousal as his body betrayed his mind. 

He didn’t look away as he became undone. He just stayed still, waiting till his torture was over.

Having become way too sensitive to be touched in that intimate area of his body, he gritted his teeth. The pain produced by her still moving on top of him in addition to his still twitching muscles became almost unbearable. But still, he didn’t lower his gaze and didn’t say a word.  
At last, she reached her point of bliss, moaning loudly in pleasure and she fell over, covering his body with hers. With a smirk, she attached her lips to his nipples and began to suck on them, lifting herself off him. His treacherous nipples turned rigid and satisfied with her work, she turned herself atop of him to press her core to his face. Not finding the thing she wanted, she pressed down harder, so unless he complied, Severus would suffocate under that vulgar witch. He opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out and began lapping at her. He tasted himself on her as he ate her out, penetrating her with his tongue. 

After a second wave of ultimate pleasure had hit her, she climbed off the table and rammed her tongue in his mouth, tasting him and herself on his tongue. She licked every corner of his mouth, took his lower lip between her teeth, drawing blood and she flicked her tongue against his.

Something between a moan and a groan escaped him. That sound actually caused her to withdraw as it was the first sound he had made since she had attacked her with her oversexed body. She detached herself from him and backed up, the tip of her tongue sliding across her lower lip. She could taste the metal taste of his blood combined with the sweet flavour of their combined liquids.

His eyes were still on her.

“I really do like young and pure twenty year olds,” she said.

She straightened her dress and jutting her chin forward she turned on her heels. Without granting him a second look, she Disapparated, after a wave of her hand caused the bounds to vanish. 

Severus let out a sigh of relief. Finally he was alone. The spasms of the Cruciatus Curse had substantially subdued sometime during Bellatrix’ administrations, and he could use his muscles to climb off the table. He didn’t waste any second more, not even bothering conjuring something to cover himself with. Non-verbally summoning his wand from the floor into his hand, he turned on the spot and Disapparated.

_**May, 1981** _

Time went by and Severus had to thank the stars for not putting him in a position like that one ever again. Bellatrix hadn’t touched him ever again, nor did she speak of her prior actions.  
Of course the Dark Lord did cast a regular Cruciatus Curse upon him, but every time he did, Severus could handle its backlash a little bit better. For his contracting muscles, he brewed his own muscle relaxation potion and for his mind, he took his own enhanced Calming Draught, when Firewhiskey alone couldn’t take the edge off. The liquor took care of the thoughts tormenting him as well as the pain, but over all he could handle the pain much better.

All went surprisingly well for him. The Dark Lord was pleased with his devotion to him and had welcomed him into his inner circle. He even got enough time off to study potions and their recipes and modify them to his own preference. He was so occupied that he didn’t even think about the lost love of his life. He didn’t have time to stop and sulk over Lily when he was always busy brewing or running about with his fellow Death Eaters, killing or torturing some Muggles or Mudbloods. Well to be fair, Bellatrix and Greyback did most of the running, Severus mostly opted to stride amidst his other Brothers and Sisters, relishing the feeling of brotherhood, companionship, the feeling he had somewhere he _belonged_. And that was a feeling which however welcome, was not one Severus had had much experience with during his life.  
But sometime late July, the information reached his ears that the Potters had welcomed their first-born son to the world. Of course he felt a pang of jealousy and sadness in his chest, but most of all he was happy for her. 

He didn’t realise this all happened when it happened. He didn’t connect the dots, didn’t remember the prophecy he had heard.

That was, until one night in May he felt his left forearm burn. Knowing he was being summoned by his Master, he dressed in his Death Eater cloak and put on his mask.  
Apparating directly to his Master’s right side, he noticed this meeting wasn’t like any other regular one. He could feel the suspension in the air and the anticipation of his Master. He could sense the excitement radiating off him as he stood only inches from his side.

He waited patiently while the other Death Eaters joined them on the hill they were on. As his Brothers and Sisters arrived, he stood proudly at his Master’s side. He, Severus Snape, who was bullied and humiliated time after time at Hogwarts, was one of the most trusted ones of the most powerful wizards of all time, at only twenty one years old. His shoulders broadened at this thought and he widened his stance a little bit.  
When all of them were there, the Dark Lord spread his arms, as if to embrace them.

“Welcome, my loyal servants,” he greeted them. “Welcome to the beginning of the end.”

Excited whispers were shared between the Death Eaters, _“What does he mean, the end?”_  
_“What beginning is he talking about?”_ Severus heard among them.

“Silence.”

All eyes turned back to their Master and no one dared to make any further sound.

“Of course you’re all wondering what I mean by those words, the beginning, the end. Let me put your concerns to bed.”

All Death Eaters shifted in anticipation. Severus held his breath..

“I’ve come to learn the name of the one to defeat me,” the Dark Lord continued.

Several gasps were heard, but no one spoke up.

“The one with the power to vanquish me is…” he paused, adding to the almost tangible tension. 

Now everybody present held his or her breath.

“Harry Potter.”

Clamour sounded from the crowd, while Severus tried to hide his shock. Harry Potter was Lily’s son and that could only mean one thing. She was in danger too!  
As soon as he realised his emotions were getting the better of him, he instinctively put up a mental wall. He tried to control his emotions, to discipline his mind. He didn’t need his Master to sense his distress. 

But the Dark Lord was busy with other things. After he had silenced his servants again, he began orating. He talked about his journey to become the most powerful wizard ever, about his victories over his enemies, his disdain for Muggles and Mudbloods and ultimately about beginning to put an end to the only one who would be able to defeat him, about killing Harry Potter and everyone who’d be stupid enough to interfer.  
Severus swallowed at his Master’s words, thankful for the mask he was wearing ‘cause his face would have definitely shown his emotions if he hadn’t worn the thing.

His Master’s soliloquy had ended and he had begun to deliver his orders to his servants.  
Severus stood rooted to the ground, barely aware of his Brothers and Sisters leaving to follow their orders. He only came to his senses when his Master turned his attention to him. Of course he sensed the change in his servant’s demeanor, but luckily for Severus he interpreted it wrong.

“Don’t you worry, Severus. None of this would be possible if it wasn’t for the information you have provided. When all of this is over, there will always be a place for you by my side.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” Severus said, bowing his head, but his voice trembled slightly.

“What is it, my boy?” the Dark Lord inquired.

“Forgive me, my Lord,” his servant responded. “I couldn’t help but to think about your words. They were… compelling, as always of course, my Lord.”

“But…?” his Master demanded. He was losing his patience, and quickly that was.

“Please forgive me for asking, my Lord,” Severus said, lowering himself to his knees, putting his lips to his Master’s robes. “Please spare the mother of the child. I beg you, my Lord.” 

The Dark Lord looked at the figure at his feet with scorn. How was it that even his right arm portrayed such weakness? But his interest had piqued somewhat. Why did his servant want him to spare the mother?

“Why?”

“Please, my Lord, I beg of you. Please spare her. I don’t care for the boy, but spare the mother.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Severus,” Voldemort sneered. “You say you don’t care about the boy, but obviously you care about the woman. I will not accept such weakness.”

Relieved, Severus let go of his Master’s robe, resigning to his fate. Even though he had not experienced the Cruciatus Curse in some time, he could remember every single time the curse had hit him. He was sure, though, this time another Unforgivable would be cast upon him. Why would the Dark Lord spare him, let alone her? He had to try, though. He could not, did not want to live knowing he hadn’t tried everything to put her out of harm's way. But of course, his Master wouldn’t hear any of it and he had dug his own grave. This time when he would be hit with one of the Unforgivable Curses, it would be different, though. This time it would be because of love. Of course he kept those thoughts to himself and tried to not let them show in his mind.  
_Love is weakness._ Or so he was told and taught.  
But he felt the presence of his master in his head and he knew the dark wizard sensed his feelings, the emotions he wasn’t able to control.  
He readied himself for the inevitable moment, but not a green flash reached him, a red one did and instead of falling to the ground and never moving ever again, he fell to the ground, moving uncontrollably. Searing pain filled his existence like it had every other time, only this time it was bearable. Yes, the pain made him want to die, but at least he felt like he deserved it. 

“Did you seriously think the Dark Lord would spare anyone, my foolish boy?” it sounded somewhere above him. “Did you seriously think you could ask for such an insane thing and walk away unscathed? The Dark Lord. Does. Not. Show. Mercy!” 

With each emphasis the power of his curse swelled, causing Severus to arch his back in a very uncomfortable looking way.  
At last, Voldemort lifted his curse and kicked the young wizard, causing him to roll onto his back. With a non-verbal spell, he compelled Severus to open his eyes. 

“I will not accept weakness,” he hissed. 

He pointed his wand at his servant again and cast a spell very familiar to its victim.

_“Sectumsempra.”_

Then he Disapparated, leaving Severus all alone on the hill.  
Severus felt his clothes soak with his blood and he let out a groan.

He hadn’t wet himself this time and even the spasms seemed to hit him with less force, but the blood left his body at an alarming rate. He shook his left arm and his wand slid from its sheath into his hand. He pointed his wand at his chest and cast the counter-curse over and over, making it sound almost like a song. When the cuts on his upper body were somewhat healed and the ones on his face were closed, he sat up, reality hitting him. He had absolutely no time to waste, lying on a windy hill somewhere in England. He had to save Lily!

o0o

Trembling, Severus apparated on yet another damned windy hill in England, only to have a wand pointed at him again. He should really consider trying his hand at another line of work, he thought, sighing, already exhausted by the events only minutes prior to this one.

“Don’t kill me!” he blurted, cursing at his own show of weakness. He was meeting the leader of the enemy for Merlin’s sake, why would that man show any mercy to him? 

However, much to his surprise, the silver bearded man lowered his wand. Why would he do that, Severus thought to himself. Did he really have a chance here?  
Recollecting his thoughts, he tried to find the words to convey his feelings, but he had never been good at that, so he was at a loss.  
Dumbledore sensed this and he opened his mouth instead. 

“Severus Snape,” he said. “it has been quite some time, I reckon. Still attracted to the Dark Arts, I see. And now you’ve come to spend your time with your former Headmaster. Humour me, why would such an _important figure_ as yourself give up his precious time to find himself on a windy hill in the middle of the night with me as his only company?”

The sarcasm dripped from his words as the old man looked at his former student. Even back then Severus had strongly leaned towards the dark side of magic, but given his undeniable talent at, well, every subject, Dumbledore had hoped he would have come to his senses soon enough to not join the Dark Side. But even without looking at the man, Dumbledore knew enough. He could sense the sadness and remorse that clung to him, enveloping him in a whirl of misery.  
Of course, Abeforth had already told him he had caught the boy snooping around and eavesdropping on his conversation with Tralawny, so he had a feeling he knew what this meeting was about, but the old Headmaster just had to hear it for himself. 

Snape swallowed almost audibly before he replied.

“Please,” he begged. “Please save her.”

“Save _who?_ ” Dumbledore asked coldly, knowing full well who.

Severus took his time responding.

“Lily,” he whispered.

There it was.

“She doesn’t need protection. The prophecy spoke of a boy,” Dumbledore said calmly, but his eyes didn’t twinkle like they used to.

“And what about her son? What about her husband? What about Harry and James Potter? Do you care for their lives like you care for hers?

“Do you care about them like you care about yourself? Begging me to save her while you’re obviously doing so only for your own gain? Do you even really care about her or are you only doing this to make you feel good about yourself? You make me want to doubt the quality of my teachers of Hogwarts, since you clearly did not learn anything good from them. You disgust me.”

Severus cringed at those harsh words, but not those words made him cringe, but the fact that he knew those words to be true. He averted his eyes.

“Save them all, then,” he croaked. “Hide them all.”

Dumbledore pretended to consider this for a while, but he had made up his mind long before he even had apparated to the hill. 

“Very well,” he said at last, his voice sounded tired. “Even an old incorrigible man like myself can’t deny a cry for help. But what would I get in return, Severus?”

“What do you mean?” Severus asked, confused.

“You’re a clever man, Severus. You did not expect me to grant your wish without asking anything in return like some kind of genie, did you? What would _you_ give _me_ in return?” the Headmaster demanded.

Exhausted, Severus let his shoulders drop, not having it in him to fight the old goat, verbally or physically. He would do everything in his power to save Lily from the wrath of the Dark Lord. He owed it to her.  
He let his black eyes meet the unusual cold blue ones again. They didn’t show any trace of mercy, pity, but he knew his own eyes were glistening with tears.

“What would you give me in return, Severus?” Dumbledore repeated.

The Death Eater swallowed.

“Anything,” he said at last.

A deafening silence followed.

“Anything?” repeated Dumbledore suspiciously, studying the Death Eater’s face. 

The man gave a curt nod.  
Looking his former student in the eyes, Dumbledore penetrated his mind without him noticing his presence. When he didn’t find any sign of deception, he pulled back.

“Alright,” he said simply, offering his hand for Severus to shake.

Severus stared at him quizzically, not sure if he was being ridiculed.

“Just take it, Snape,” Dumbledore snapped. “You can imagine I have more important business to attend to than standing with the likes of you on this hill.”

From experience, Severus knew not to disobey a direct order and though he predicted this man not to be as cruel and evil as his master - or rather former master, he realized - he didn’t feel like testing the silver-bearded man’s patience within the first minute of his service to him.  
He grabbed the other man’s hand without a word and immediately felt himself being apparated.  
Panic flooded his mind. Did he fall for a trap? Was he being taken to Azkaban? How could he be so naive to just trust the enemy to trust him?

As soon as his feet hit the place of destination, he released Dumbledore’s hand, pulled out his wand, ready to hex or curse anyone in sight. It came as a surprise to find himself in the Headmaster’s office with no one present other than the Headmaster himself and a ugly bundle of feathers that was the man’s baby phoenix.  
Though slightly relieved, Severus was still not completely at ease, so he lowered his wand a bit, but stayed alert.

oOo

The Headmaster rather ignored his former students' antics and walked over to his desk to sit down in his leather desk chair. He waved his right hand and summoned a tea set with two mugs from somewhere behind him. With another wave, tea began pouring itself into the mugs and when they were almost filled to the brim, he picked up one of them and held it up, offering it to the man in front of his desk. 

Here, in his office with candles lighting up the room with a warm glow, Dumbledore could really study his former student for the first time since he had graduated.  
With his twenty one years, the Death Eater was still a boy, really.  
From what he could remember, the boy had never been the most athletic or handsome one of his class. He had been slender, but lithe. Even then, as an eleven year old, his bony face had always shown a certain scowl, especially when James Potter and his companions had been near. 

The person that stood in front of him now, still wore that same scowl on his face. He wasn’t as skinny as he had been, his robes didn’t reveal much of his body, but you could see that his shoulders were broader, his face and jaw rather angular than bony.  
Severus Snape had never been a handsome teenager, but the last three years had done him some good.  
But that was just the surface, Dumbledore noticed.  
As his former student pocketed his wand, took a seat in one of the visitor’s chairs and took the cup of tea from him, the Headmaster continued to study him in silence.  
Even when they’d been on the hill, Dumbledore had noticed the tears in the boy’s clothing.  
From nearby, he could see a mean red streak decorating Severus’ face and the tearing in his clothes was accompanied with more dried blood than Dumbledore would’ve liked to see , no doubt courtesy of Lord Voldemort or his minions.

The piercing black eyes staring right back at him showed obvious traces of exhaustion, but underneath that there was a certain kind of fury, determination, visible and, much to Dumbledore’s surprise, not one hint of nervousness or fear.  
Dumbledore noticed the boy hadn’t drunk his tea.

“You remember how to drink?” he asked, not completely unkind.

The boy remained silent, but kept his gaze on the other man.  
The old Headmaster had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

“Sometimes I do wonder,” he sighed. “What does Tom Riddle do to you for you to be this distrusting? It’s just a cup of tea.”

“I think you know, sir,” Severus said, gesturing to the cut on his face with his free hand.

“Yes, I guess, I do know, but I find that it doesn’t keep me from wondering all the same. Though you will find you can drink this without harming yourself or others, so please do. You can’t be of any good to me if you were to die from dehydration.”

“Wouldn’t want that, would you,” the boy muttered under his breath, while lifting the mug to his face and sniffing the liquid in order to detect any kind of poison, before deciding he could at least take one sip without risking death.

“Come now, Severus,” Dumbledore said. “There’s no need for an attitude. You were the one to come to me, remember. A little quid pro quo is more than fair.”

oOo

“And what is it, you will have me do?” Severus asked.

Didn’t the man understand the urgency of the matter at hand? Lily Potter had no minute to spare, she had to be taken to safety right this second and instead Dumbledore took his time sipping tea and mocking him.  
And of course the old goat chose to ignore his question.

“Are you familiar with Occlumency, Severus?” Dumbledore asked him instead.

“I’ve never been taught, but I know what it does. Many of the Dark Lord’s servants are skilled Occlumens, so they can hide their thoughts from him, though not all are successful,” Severus answered truthfully.

“Yes, Tom is a master Legilimens, which means he can invade almost every mind and seek out the most intimate thoughts and secrets. I take it you haven’t learned how to occlude yourself?”

“I have always been a quite focused person. I can control my emotions enough to detach myself from… certain situations,” Severus responded.

Dumbledore hummed knowingly and put his now empty cup back on his desk. He filled it again, but chose to do it manually. Apparently he was gathering his thoughts on how to proceed with their conversation.  
Severus raised an eyebrow but otherwise kept silent.

“It is from great importance that you learn to occlude your mind, Severus. From now on, you will answer only to me, Voldemort is no longer your master, I am. If you still wish for me to protect the Potters, that is, of course. Assuming you still want my help, I will teach you Occlumency as well as Legilimency, so you will be able to resist Tom while you’re in his presence, spying for me. 

“You will find yourself in situations where you want to defy Tom or me, to give in or give up, to end this deal, your loyalties to him or myself, situations where you want to end your own life even. I recommend you, don’t. It is in your best interest that you learn to master your mind, so you’ll be able to be rational, keep your head on straight and not get carried away by your emotions, as you had the tendency to in your teens, I recall. You may respond now, “ Dumbledore went on.

Severus kept his eyes on the blue ones, noticing they were no longer as cold as they had been some moments ago, but they still lacked their usual twinkle. He held himself as still as possible, not sure how the old man would react at sudden movement. His former master didn’t hesitate to curse anyone who dared to move while talked to, and Severus didn’t feel the need to find out if the same went for his new master.  
Dumbledore apparently sensed his thoughts or rather read his mind, Severus realized, and the old man said gently, “Relax, boy, I’m not the Dark Lord. While serving me, you’re my responsibility, you’re under my protection.”  
Severus nodded slowly at those words, but his demeanor didn’t falter. He kept his back straight as he sat, his eyes never left the old man.  
After he expressed his agreement, there would be no turning back, he thought to himself. This was it, after serving the Dark Lord ever since he graduated from Hogwarts, he would not only leave his side but also join the enemy. No, that wasn’t right, he would not leave the Dark Lord’s side, he would stay, but as a bloody spy.  
_For Lily_ , he thought, allowing himself to close his eyes for a moment, _I have to do this to save Lily._

He repeated those words a few times to himself in his mind, while his eyes remained closed. He felt his new master’s eyes on him, no doubt studying him, maybe trying to read his mind.  
Then he looked up at the old Headmaster, his determination apparent. 

“Alright,” he said. “Teach me, please.”

**Author's Note:**

> It really pained me to have Severus undergo all that, but when I wrote it, it all just came flowing right out.


End file.
